


Never Meant for This to Happen

by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Autistic Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hyperempathy, Nerve Damage, Nonbinary Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Whump, car crashes, uhhh, venom siblings hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth
Summary: Some Kobra h/c <3
Relationships: Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

How long has he been trapped?

Did he pass out between the crash and now? He doesn't know. 

One of his hands is free, at least, his blaster fallen just too far to grab. He strains to reach it, and instead, he blacks out again.

It's a beeping that wakes him up, and he almost laughs when he sees what it is-- the car's seatbelt sign is dutifully beeping away, doing it's damn best to keep him safe. If he could speak to it, he'd thank it. He wouldn't tell it it came too late, wouldn't tell it he had been wearing his seatbelt-- it must have snapped, or been severed, when the windshield came down around him.

The next time he opens his eyes (shit, he passed out again?), he notices the other car, the BLI employee transport vehicle-- a glorified van full of Dracs. He'd hit the side head-on, and from the looks of it, there were no survivors. Good. 

He wonders if they'll find him in time, or if he'll die here with only the seatbelt alarm for company. He doesn't want it to watch him die. Would it care? It's a fucking noise machine, it'll never have the sentience to know who he is or why it's beeping. But he still doesn't want it to feel sad. 

He's out again, for a while, and the blood-- had he mentioned the blood before? It's stained all down the front of his pale blue pajama shirt. He's gonna die in his pajamas, holy shit. The call, a pair of Batt Rats in distress, had come over the radio, urgent, and he hadn't had time to change. He hopes they'd both survived, both got away okay.

Would it be selfish of him to hope they sent someone to get him? It's the right thing to do, he knows, to be all self-sacrificing and feel good about it, but really, he doesn't. He just wants to see his fucking family again. No, he doesn't just want that, actually. He wants to see his family all the time, he wants to get the fuck out of this wreck, and he wants everything to be okay. He deserves it, and he knows it, and he's never going to get it. So he lies trapped beneath so much crumpled metal, anger growing as his lifeblood drains away.

He doesn't wake up again, not for a long time after.

He doesn't hear his brother shout his name, rush over to him, tears already spilling from their eyes.

He doesn't hear his best friends deliberating the best way to help him-- he's clearly been pinned so long removing the weight could kill him, but they can't just leave him there.

A medic comes, and he's unconscious as ae treats him, bandaging as many wounds as ae can, inserting a fluid line into his unpinned arm.

The four of them ease him out of the car, and his brother screams, and he doesn't wake up.

They take him home, and he doesn't wake up.

His brother waits by his bedside, fights the others' attempts to pull him away to eat, to rest, and he doesn't wake up.

Only when his brother falls over from exhaustion and is taken away to his own bed, does he blearily blink awake, alone.

He doesn't even try to move, a pained gasp barely making it past his lips.

It took him so long to return to consciousness. And now, he's kept awake by the burning pain running through him, and he'd give anything just to pass out again.


	2. Chapter 2

Poison comes back, not soon enough, rushing to Kobra as soon as he sees his brother's pained epression, wide-open eyes. 

"Kobra." They reach for their brother's hand, and Kobra slips it into theirs, shaking. Poison isn't sure if it's from pain or fear, but he holds Kobra's hand in both of his as his own hands begin to shake. "I love you, Kobra." Kobra squeezes Poison's hand, silent.

It's a few days of flirting with consciousness, but finally, Poison carries Kobra out to the diner's main room, Kobra uncharacteristically silent in his arms. 

"Thank you," he signs, right-handed. His dominant arm is still clutched to his chest, and Poison frowns. It had been trapped, but not broken under the wreckage of the car, and it shouldn't still be bothering him.

"Kobra?" At the sound of his name, Kobra looks to Poison as Poison lowers themself gently onto the couch beside Kobra, lifting Kobra's legs to rest them on their lap. "Can you move your arm for me? Does it hurt?" Kobra shrugs, lifting his hand to sign, 

"No." His fingers clash together, though, clumsy and twitching, and Poison frowns again as Kobra pulls his arm back in, crossing the other over it protectively, glaring slightly at Poison.

"Hey, yeah. Thank you, K." Poison reaches out, gently, and Kobra jerks away. "Okay. I won't touch ya, or press the matter. Can you tell me what happened, then?" Kobra shrugs, signing, 

"Dracs. Killed them," with his nondominant hand, his face expressive to make up for the imprecise shapes.

"I got _that_ , Kobra." Poison smiles tentatively, and Kobra flips him off.

"They were..." He trails off. "Winning." Poison winces at the thought of their brother, dead in a sand dune somewhere, or worse, Drac'ed.

"I..." It's Poison's turn to trail off, and Kobra lays a hand, steady and solid, on their shoulder. "Please don't do that again." Kobra raises an eyebrow, a question. "Don't try and sacrifice yourself to take the Dracs-- or anything-- out."

"No choice," Kobra says, and Poison winces. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Kobra doesn't respond.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment below, and come find me on tumblr @wishiwasthemoon-tonight!


End file.
